


summer of 1985

by flightlesscrow



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Character Death, Drug Abuse, Flashbacks, Gen, Heavy Angst, Historically Inaccurate, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Original Fiction, Pedophilia, Suicide, this is my own original work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 18:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11363139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightlesscrow/pseuds/flightlesscrow
Summary: a boy and his brother, aged twelve, go through the summer of 1985. they have to deal with things no twelve year old ever should.





	summer of 1985

**Author's Note:**

> yes, this will be historically inaccurate. no, i don't need you to point it out (feel free to anyways). implied rape/pedophilia/torture/child abuse. suicide attempt. drug and alcohol abuse. if you aren't comfortable with any of these things, please turn back now.

the year was 1985. we were 12 back then. things were simpler. we weren't so afraid. our houses were left unlocked and no one dared break in. but that could have been for the fact that we didn't have much worth wanting. 

our house was simple, two bedrooms and one bathroom, with a small kitchen and small front room with a small dining room off to the side. the backyard was the biggest part. we spent all our time out there, even past dark, even when mama told us to come on back inside and wash up for bed. 

we shared a room, bunk beds on one wall and wardrobe on the other. we were the same height and build so we shared clothes. made things simpler and mama and pops. we didn't mind so much. we just wanted to be good for them.

as long as we had each other, we were set for life. ‘pay no mind to the other kids,’ mama would tell us when we'd come home battered and bruised from a fist fight behind the schoolyard. ‘they're just jealous that you have a bond that they never did.’

man, we thought our mama was the wisest woman in the world. she didn't speak very often, but when she did, brother, she spoke the truth. it was hard not to believe her words, because mama was usually right about everything she ever told us about.

maybe in retrospect it's hard not to believe mama. when you're twelve years old and school has just let out for the summer, and your older brother came home to give you and your other brother brand new bikes to play with (oh how mama scolded him, he didn't hear the end of it for months. we were grateful to him though), it was hard to listen to her when she spoke.

twelve year olds even now think they know everything there is to know about everything. that’s just how kids are. we were no exception, johnny and me. we thought we was wise as mama was, so we ignored her warnings.

that would prove to be a big mistake later on.

johnny and i went all over town with our new bikes, riding to the mall with what little pocket money we could scrape together and meeting up with friends for movies, hitting on girls too old for us and laughing at their reactions to our behaviour, man, we thought we had it made.

pops told us to buy locks for our bikes, but we never did. couldn't afford them, and they took too long to put on and take off, so we shrugged it off and parked them as they were.

turns out johnny got his stolen, and he relied on me for transportation from then on out.

‘timmy,’ he'd whine. ‘let me ride on your pegs!’ i’d brush him off with a laugh and tell him to walk his sorry ass back home, but i took pity on my twin brother and let him ride my pegs anyways. mama told us that was dangerous, but we didn’t pay her any attention back then. complexes are a dangerous thing.

pops roared with anger when johnny told him what happened. i stepped in before it could get any worse and told him we'd get it back. johnny looked at me like i was his favorite action star, and i puffed out my chest, feeling like the proudest man on earth. pops sighed, shook his head, and brought us home bike locks the very next day.

we did find his bike two months later. a gang of high school thugs had it, and we charged them, screaming to give it back. we took a pretty bad beating from them and a worse scolding from mama, but we got johnny’s bike back, so we were pretty damn content.

mama dressed our wounds. she looked troubled so i asked what she was thinking about. she hesitated for a moment, waited until pops went out for a smoke, then sat me and johnny down on the worn sofa.

‘there have been reports of kids your age being abducted by strange older men. they use an assortment of tactics to lure the kids in, or they straight up take them from the street against their will. i want you boys to be careful, never go anywhere alone, you hear?’

we exchanged glances, amusement in our eyes at our paranoid mother, and nodded quickly. we told her we were going out to play, and quickly escaped through the back door to catch lightning bugs in our backyard, pops silently keeping watch over us.

about two weeks after mama’s anxious warning, we biked down to the movie theatre to meet up with friends. we had no worries, laughing up a storm as we entered the theatre, paying no mind to the other people as we chose a movie. by now i forget what we saw, but i remember it being funny, so it was probably a comedy.

they didn't have many seats left in the theatre, but we all managed to get a seat next to each other.

halfway through johnny leans over and whispered to me that he had to use the bathroom and he'd be back. i nodded. i wasn't worried, but in hindsight maybe i should have heeded mama's warning and gone with him.

i was too engrossed in the movie to notice anyone else coming in or exiting the theatre. but after fifteen minutes, i started to get nervous.

‘is he okay?’ i asked mark, who was sitting next to me on my right. 

‘how should i know?’ he responded. i stayed silent and told myself he'd be back, maybe he was just taking a shit, he'll be back.

another fifteen minutes passed and i started to get antsy. this wasn't normal. i told myself to be patient a bit more, he'd be back before the movie ended, but when he didn't return i knew i should have gone when i started to get a bad feeling.

i walked out of the theatre with my friends and asked them to come with me to the bathroom. we called for johnny, but got no answer. we searched every bathroom, but to no avail: he wasn't in any of them. 

i went up to one of the people who take tickets and asked them if they had seen a blond kid with a bowlcut, who was my height and wearing a striped t-shirt and khaki shorts. he answered that he had, the boy had left with an older man more than 45 minutes ago.

my stomach churned, and i threw up outside. tony patted my back in sympathy. worry was painted on the faces of the others. we all rode back to my house as fast as we could.

‘mama,’ i said as i burst through our front door. she looked up from her paper, and pops put out his cigar. ‘mama, johnny’s missing,’ i panted.

the color drained from her face. ‘baby, what do you mean johnny’s missing?’

‘we was at the movies and he told me he went to the bathroom but he never came back and the people at the theatre told me he left with an older man and oh god mama, we gotta find him!’ i cried. she began crying too, and pops grabbed the car keys and dragged us out to the car.

we had a big car and he told my friends to get in, we'd take them home. we dropped them off before heading to the police station. mama couldn't stop crying. i was feeling sick again, and pops looked ready to blow a gasket.

‘didn't your mother tell you not to leave each other's sides?’ he shouted. i shrank back in my seat and answered in a small voice, ‘yessir.’

‘so why didn't you listen?’

‘pops, he was goin’ to the bathroom, i didn't think-’

‘of course you didn't! bathroom abductions are common, you should have gone with him!’

‘i’m sorry!’ i cried. i felt responsible for what happened to johnny, and it killed me inside. mama said nothing.

i repeated my story to a police officer, who sent people to the theatre to ask them questions, and for the next few weeks our small town was on high alert looking for predators.

a man's face was plastered everywhere. so was my brother's. i felt sick. how could this have happened to my sweet brother? i wished it had been me instead.

our older brother anthony came to stay with us. he was quiet and more affectionate than usual. he gave mama and i big, long hugs, and when i’d have bad dreams, he'd sleep in my bed with me to calm me down. it was rough on us all.

about a month after the incident, we got a call from the police chief. they had found johnny. we cried with relief and rushed down to the station. 

they told us he had undergone many traumatic experiences, such as abuse and rape and starvation. i wasn't sure what all those meant at the time, but when it was explained to me i had to fight real hard not to throw up. my poor brother and the hell he'd gone through. he wasn't deserving of it.

johnny wasn't the same after that. together we attended many therapy sessions, but nothing ever helped him get back to normal.

a few years later he stayed home from school and i went without him. mama had found a job so she and pops were at work all day.

i took the bus home, and when i walked down the hall to our bedroom, a chill ran through me. i ignored it and pushed the door open, beginning to say a greeting before it turned into a blood curtling scream. 

i found johnny hanging from our light fixture, the light gone from his eyes. he was cold to the touch.

i phoned the police. my voice was shaking and thick with tears as i told them that i think my brother killed himself. 

we had a funeral a week later. mama never spoke after that. pops became violent. he directed it at me, said it was my fault johnny died and blamed me for what happened to him.

me? i silently took my father's verbal and physical abuse, not complaining about mama's silence and reluctance to stop it, and i began getting heavily into drugs and alcohol.

on my 21st birthday, five years after johnny offed himself, i left home to shoot up and drink myself silly at the bar in town. 

i was found dead in the alley behind the bar, toxic levels of heroin and alcohol in my system. maybe it wasn't fair of me to do that to my parents and brother, especially with what happened to johnny, but i didn't care.

life was cruel and i wanted out. i imagine it's how johnny had felt all those years. i found an escape just like he did.

it's said they found me with a smile on my face. i could be with johnny again, and maybe we could be happy together once more.

how am i relaying this to you now, you wonder? as a spirit of course. or maybe through a reincarnation that happened to remember. maybe this is all fiction. it's up to you to decide.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a few days ago. it kind of just came pouring out of me. i dont know where the inspiration for it came from. it may be bad, it may be inaccurate, but i'm not too concerned with that. i just wanted to put it out there. it just. feels very personal to me. i feel a strong connection to this. also, i know the ending sucks, but i needed something. so. yeah,
> 
> please leave a comment to let me know what you thought of it, if you think i should write more original works in the future, what i can do to improve, something that stuck out to you, anything. if you have anything to say at all, even if it's negative, please say it. 
> 
> you can also contact me on my tumblr (flightless-crow) or my instagram (flight.less.crow)
> 
> this is really the first original thing i've written and i'm kind of scared about it if i'm being honest. my friend convinced me to post it though. i think i'll dedicate it to her. she'll know who she is if she reads this again.


End file.
